Draco was awoken the next morning by a tapping noise.
He groaned, and squinted his eyes in the direction of the sound to see an owl rapping at his window. As he moved towards it, he put a hand over his head, a throbbing hangover already beginning to form.
He knew it was a ministry owl, specifically hers, by the prissy look the thing gave him as he opened the window, and perched on the sill.
"By all means, come in," he said through gritted teeth, and took the letter.
The owl exited back out of the window without another glance.
His lip curled at the envelope, but he opened it immediately, tearing through the ministry seal, and finding her handwriting under the stamped letterhead:
Mr. Malfoy,
This letter is to inform you that after inspection, your household(s) have been deemed appropriate for the continued employment of the following:
-Risly the Elf
-Ceely the Elf
Thank you for your continued cooperation during this time of transition as we work together towards better welfare for free and employed elves.
You may expect an owl in three months time to discuss your next appointment.
Regards,
Hermione Granger
Coordinator of Elfish Welfare
He stared at her name for some time, before eventually pursing his lips, and flinging the letter on his kitchen counter.
It disappeared eventually, Risly, he, assumed, having stowed it away, or discarded it
Several weeks later he received another owl from her secretary, inquiring about times he and the elves would be available.
They settled on August 1st.
If he was honest, he had thought about the… encounter many times in the last three months, especially late at night. Draco had become quite the recluse in his adulthood, so he chalked the rather concerning day dreams he had begun having about the bushy haired heroine up to loneliness.
Hate sex. He had told himself. That's what that was. One of those things that happens when you are drunk, and traumatized, and bold, and…
He shook the thought out of his head as he entered the lift at the Ministry of Magic, elves in tow.
Ceely held Risly close, who was rather trembly again. Draco didn't have many people over to his flat, so Risly felt rather nervous to be around so many witches and wizards today.
"Mr. Malfoy is taking Risly and Ceely to see Miss Granger," Ceely had cooed in Risly's ear, calming her slightly.
Draco was feeling nervous himself, but for other reasons entirely as they exited the lift and followed the signs to the O. E. W. office. He might have attempted to avoid it all together if his mother was in any state to attend, but alas, duty and all that rot.
The signs led them to a door embossed with gold letters that read:
Office of Elfish Welfare
And in slightly smaller font under that:
Hermione Granger, Coordinator of Elfish Welfare.
On the other side of the door was a secretary desk, and— Salazar Slytherin's bloody taint— if it wasn't the Weasley girl perched on it.
A petite blonde sat behind the desk, and they both turned to him as he entered.
Draco noticed Ginny chewing on what looked like a bit of dried fruit, a pregnant belly protruded from her otherwise lithe frame.
When she met his gaze, she moved the fruit from her mouth, but continued to chew aimlessly. She regarded him with a twinkling look in her eyes.
The blonde at the desk perked up, checking the clock on the wall and said, "Mr. Malfoy, we've only just gotten in from lunch. I'll check to see if she is ready for you."
He nodded at both witches, and stood in the middle of the lobby awkwardly. He resorted to clasping his hands behind his back. Ginny simply tore at the piece of the fruit with her teeth as the blonde disappeared behind a door to the left.
"Afternoon," Ginny said, finally.
"Hello," Draco said, his tone flat.
She eyed the elves who had begun surveying the lobby, whispering to each other as they spotted portraits of various elves and artwork done by them on the walls. Ginny's eyes swept back to Draco, with a curious look, and her tongue moved in her mouth to suck what must have been stuck fruit from the inside of her teeth.
The blonde witch returned, mercifully, and closed the door behind her.
"She will be with you shortly," she said, before crossing back to her desk.
Ginny pushed herself from where she was leaning, looked back at the witch and said, "Tell Hermione thanks again for lunch." She then crossed the lobby, and popped the rest of the dried fruit into her mouth. As she passed Draco, she didn't try to conceal the once over she gave him, before exiting out of the door.
He let out a breath, quite sure he had not been breathing for a while.
Did she know? He wondered, Surely not. Surely—
The door behind the desk opened and there she was.
Their eyes met, and she smiled at him prettily.
Prettily, he thought, Dumbledore's moldy arse.
"Hello," Hermione said, "Come in."
Risly and Ceely gave Granger a deep bow as they entered the office, and Draco thought he might be sick.
He ran a finger through his hair and she motioned for him to sit, along with the elves, while she rounded to her own seat behind her desk.
Malfoy did so, and the two elves climbed into their own chairs beside him with some difficulty. He might have laughed at them in other circumstances.
Instead, he leaned his left arm on the chair's arm rest. He then placed his fingers on his temple, and with his other hand's thumb, rubbed at a place on his forearm where the skin always felt a bit irritated, particularly so at the moment.
"You all look well," she said, taking a considerable amount of time to ruffle through the many pieces of parchment on her desk.
Hermione didn't look bad, but she didn't exactly look well, Draco thought. She looked stressed, and he could tell she looked thinner since the last time he saw her.
"Yes! Risly is happy to see Miss Granger again!" Risly chirruped.
Draco looked towards the creature in annoyance.
Hermione smiled at the elf, and then turned to Draco and cleared her throat.
"As you know," she began, and then looked down again to her parchments. Draco wondered if she was struggling to look at him. The thought made him straighten in his chair a little.
She continued, "when the Fair Employment Act of Elven Folk was passed, employers were asked to implement several things in order to maintain the service of their help…" she cleared her throat again, strummed her fingers on her desk, before taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes again.
"This office became the facilitators of the contracted agreements between elves and employees to ensure things like adequate time off, safe working conditions… all of which you have done without issue," she let the words fall out as if reciting a monologue.
She then swallowed and cleared her throat once more before saying to no one in particular, "Would you like some water?"
Before either of her guests could answer, she waved her wand at a cupboard, and caused glasses to fly around the room into everyone's lap. In addition, a water pitcher danced along the room to fill each cup. She took a long drink from her glass, and sat it down, clearing her throat once more.
A smirk began to form on Draco's lips, and the fingers of his propped up arm rested on his lips as he observed her.
Hermione continued, "The second phase was…the home visit, to ensure all of these things were in place, as well as confirm the welfare of the elves…er—on site," she let out a breath.
"Miss Granger are you quite alright?" Draco asked. He couldn't help himself.
Her eyes flew up to his with venom.
"Of course," she said sharply, and they stared at each other for several beats.
From the corner of his eye he could see Risly's head shift from himself to Hermione, a comically confused look on her face.
Ceely, seasoned elf as she was, only set straight backed and gazed politely at Hermione. Ever loyal, and rather old school, she never dared daly in her master's affairs, much less acknowledge the presence of any.
Hermione cleared her throat again, this time with more force.
"The next phase will include having them registered in a database, which I am prepared to do for them today," she looked to the elves and continued, "It won't take long, I'll just need to take some prints, and get a photograph. You will also be provided identification papers."
"Risly has never taken a photograph before!" The elf squealed.
Hermione nodded to the elf and pushed back from her desk, beaconing the elves to follow her to a table near the office door.
"So," Hermione clapped her hands together in expectation as she asked "who is first?"
She was in her element, Draco thought, and she looked really good.
Draco watched as Hermione took physical prints of their hands, feet, and ears, by dipping each part in ink, and having them press it onto parchment.
Next, she obtained magical prints by having the elves hold on to a piece of parchment, and transfer the ink still smudging their bodies on to it. The ink Ceely transferred to the paper looked slightly different that Risly's. Draco assumed this bit of magic formed some sort of imprint that could be used to identify the elves by their magic should it be needed. It was an impressive tool, no doubt invented by the witch who stood before him.
He felt a tinge of guilt at the remark he made to her earlier, he had no right to tease her. They had been drunk, and she probably horribly regretted what had happened between them. She obviously did not intend to discuss it, and hoped he could just be decent enough so she could do her job without innuendo.
"My receptionist, Gia, will make you a copy of all of this, if you'd like," she reported to the elves, "as well as identification papers."
"Is that all then?" Draco said, jumping from his seat, eager to not feel this way anymore. He hoped leaving would help.
"For today. Next you'll need to take them in for a physical evaluation with a healer. I'll owl you the information for O.E.W's healer. He's at St. Mungo's, so it should be convenient…"
"We've a family healer on retainer," Draco said absentmindedly.
Hermione paused for a moment, and looked at him as if he might be joking, "Well…" she started, "this one specializes in elf anatomy… a human healer might not…"
"Right," Draco snapped, feeling stupid.
Hermione opened the door for them and looked to the elves again, "Please tell Gia if you would like copies." Draco's elves had exited the room before he could cross it, leaving he and Hermione without their buffer for a moment.
He paused when he realized they were alone, stopping only for a beat. He seemed to have forgotten how to appropriately communicate a farewell to someone. He sniffed. It was as much of an acknowledgment of a goodby he could muster at the moment. Draco was keen to get out of her office, away from her stare, away from the pressure he felt in his head right behind his eyes, pressure that he blamed on her.
He'd have to get closer to her yet, as she stood holding the door. His gaze dropped to the floor, as he took the rest of the needed steps, and he was almost past her when she spoke, causing him to pause again right in the office doorway.
An in-between place, how fitting.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, "Malfoy," Granger said, "I—"
Draco could see his elves in the lobby with the secretary. The blonde witch talked with them excitedly as she got their papers together.
"No need," he said, his voice was a cool drawl.
He could see her shift a bit from the corner of his eyes, and she shook her head slightly.
It was as if her slight movement wafted her smell to him, the vanilla and rose, and he tightened his jaw. He closed his eyes, already knowing that he wouldn't be able to help himself.
His composed, standoffish Malfoy side fought with his heedless and impulsive Black side.
The Black side won.
He inclined his head towards her, just enough so only she could hear when he said, "Though… should you have need to… inquire about the welfare of any creature in my home… feel free. No need to owl ahead."
He didn't wait for a response as he stepped past her, but he could have sworn he heard her lightly clear her throat again.
The shadows were growing in Draco's flat that evening. His dinner had been cleared ages ago, but he continued to sit at the head of his dining table with his elbows propped. His mouth rested on his two pointer fingers. He had long foregone his tie and cufflinks, and sat now with the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and his sleeves rolled up
The ticking of the pocket watch in his trouser pocket was his only indication that time kept going. He sat so still that he could feel it tapping against him with each tick and every tock.
The protective wards of Draco's flat tingled, letting him know of an arrival at his front door before he heard the knock.
He made a motion with his pinky finger, which caused the large wooden door to swing open. He heard it shut again as light footsteps approached.
No greeting, only footsteps.
Draco heard them stop briefly, as if questioning to turn back around or continue forward.
Several beats went by, but he only sat, listening.
Every sense was on high alert as he waited, waited like he had been all night, for the past three months, and hell, maybe even longer than that.
He eventually heard them again, coming towards him, until she stood in the doorway.
Draco glared at her for several seconds, before finally lowering his fingers from his lips and standing slowly to push his chair back. He then placed his palms on the table and leaned forward a bit, narrowing his eyes in mock confusion.
Her mouth twisted a few times, and she finally said, "I thought we could talk." She let herself walk a few more steps into the dining room.
He pushed himself from the table, and flattened one arm across his body, creating a table for the other to perch on, giving him access to run a finger across his mouth. He took a few measured steps towards her, stopping an arms width away.
"You didn't come here to talk, Granger," he said.
She looked up at him as if annoyed, and she took a few steps back, pressing herself against a nearby wall.
He closed the space between them more until he was close enough to smell vanilla and rose. He then dropped his voice, just enough that she had to lean in slightly to hear him.
"Took you long enough." He said, eyes set on hers.
"Expecting me, were you?"
"No, Granger, I can't say any of this was… expected." He reached a hand up and trailed his finger from her chin down to her neck, not bothering with the pleasantries of keeping his hands to himself tonight.
Not after everything he had imagined since he had her last.
Finally he broke the prolonged eye contact to look down, taking his time to rake up her body, letting his mouth drop and tongue play at his lips as he did so. When he met her eyes again he smirked, and said, "What's your pleasure, then, Granger?"
"Must you put it like that?" She asked.
"I'm merely stating facts. You seem to be in need of… decompression. You said it yourself the other night, and I know more than most how the stress… can be too much… I can help you there." He put a hand on the frame just above her head and leaned his face close to her.
"Mmm," she said, arching her back a little.
"This is where you beg," he said.
She rolled her eyes and then replied, "You're not nearly as much of an arsehole as you pretend to be." Her voice was firm and swottish. She tilted her head up proudly as if she had just put him in check in wizards chess.
Indeed, it had caught him off guard. His mouth opened to give a smug retort but he closed it again. It eventually crawled into its ever practiced sneer, a natural defense mechanism he'd long honed. She leered back at him, and Draco didn't know how long they stood like that because the ticking of his pocket watch was silenced by the thrumming of his heart in his ears.
He let out a characteristic scoff, if only to do something natural, something that made sense to his Malfoy side.
But sod it all, if the Black side didn't win again.
Draco grabbed Hermione's face, and kissed her.
Last time he couldn't believe what was happening. This time he needed to believe it. Needed to believe she was letting him push her into the wall and part her lips to let his tongue slide in. He needed to believe she was letting him move his hands over her body, pressing his hand into her breast, and moving a hand up her dress. It had to be real, the way she pushed him off her slightly to come up for air and undo his pants. Frantically, hastily, they both moved, as if one feared the other might disappear any second.
She moved to his shirt next, undoing his buttons as he dropped to her neck, placing open mouth kisses down one side, then across the column of her throat to the other.
When he got to her collar bone, he leaned down and placed his hands on the back of her thighs, close to the only place he dared to touch her last time, and lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around him with a gasp as her back slammed against the wall again.
Draco's teeth trailed against her cheek, and he slid both hands up her thighs under her dress. He kneaded at her skin as he pressed his body flush against her, until he eventually hooked a thumb into one side of her knickers.
He pulled slightly, using magic to take them off, and then held them out with a smirk, keen on showing off some of his impressive wandless skill.
"I changed my mind," she said, "you are an arse." He closed his fists around her underwear slowly, then reached behind him to stuff them in his pocket.
"Language," he said with a drawl.
As his hand was returning back to her, she said in a stern voice, " Those are mine."
He leaned into her ear, resting his arm back on the wall above her head.
"How about a wager. If I make you come harder than you ever have before, you can have them back. If not, I can keep them until I'm able to."
"We are not doing this again," she said, head turning against the wall to face him. "This it the last time, Malfoy."
"Oh yeah? He said, "Well if that's the case, then I'll keep them as a souvenir to remember you by." He snaked his hand down and took hold of a stray curl. They both watched as he wound it around his finger, then pulled at it, letting it spring back into place. Their eyes met again, slowly and Draco couldn't help but swallow harshly as his eyes saw the fire in hers. Eyes cutting into him as if he had pulled the chord of a bomb, as if they had reached the end of a fuse and must brace for impact.
"I should have known you'd be sentimental." She slowly responded.
He leaned into her again, kissing her, hard— no strength to continue his ruse of restraint, of control. Their arms tangled, fighting for dominance as Draco resorted to pushing her dress up, taking note of the feel of her skin as his hand grazed her sides, before lifting it over her head and tossing it away.
Hermione pulled on either side of the shirt she had undone earlier, and he inclined his shoulders, helping it off his right arm then pushing himself back on her to flick off the rest himself.
When it was on the floor, he moved that hand behind her to unclasp her bra. He ran his tongue across the top of her breasts as he removed it, the sound of the hiss she made combined with the taste of her skin caused him to give a groan that was muffled by her flesh.
He took his mouth off her to drag his gaze over her now bare body, very aware that this was the first time they had seen each other disrobed. He bit his lip in concentration as he maneuvered himself from his undid pants, but a sudden thought occurred to him…
"Do you take a tonic?" He blew into her ear.
"Of course," she said, her voice halfway between a gasp and a snap.
He adjusted her higher up the wall and she added, "and you… don't have any… diseases I should be concerned about." She said it halfway amused, yet meaning it to offend him.
He dug a hand in her hair, eliciting another one of those sweet gasps as his lip curled, "No, Granger," he panted, "pure as my blood."
She let in a sharp inhale and he met her eyes again, and he saw it.
Disdain.
Hate sex. This was hate sex, after all. Mutually beneficial expression of pent up frustration. He could live with that.
Her eyes cut up to the arm anchoring him to the wall, the angle of his forearm resting there covering any cursed marks, save for the silvery lines that still stretched across his body. Her own scared forearm was conveniently hidden behind his neck. Two slurs, hidden.
Draco watched her eyes wander over one of his scars, creating a path down. When her trail forked to his chest, she reached out, touching it softly and traced it up his neck. She cut her eyes to him when her fingers began to wrap around his neck, her thumb taking purchase of his pulse point. He closed his eyes slowly, enjoying the light and testing pressure. The little noise that escaped on his exhale was inevitable.
He felt her breath hit his lips before she latched on to him, giving him a satisfied huff and rock of her hips to let him know what to do next. He adjusted himself to meet her body, no need to break their burning kiss, as he knew the way in. He guided himself with his hand and pushed into her, earning him a satisfied moan from the witch.
Hermione's lips parted from him and she rested her head on his forehead, biting her lip to stifle the"fuck" that escaped from her mouth as she attempted to take more of him in. She tightened her grip on his neck as she adjusted her hips to adapt. When she accomplished it, she let out a swotty little laugh. No need to praise the brightest witch of our age, he thought, she could do so herself.
And she could choke him to death for all he cared.
But alas, her grip loosened on his neck eventually, and her hand fell to his shoulder as he worked up to a steady pace inside her.
She let her head fall back on the wall, but Draco followed her face, unable to get enough of her lips, her brazen, mouthy, know it all lips. Lips that hummed appraisal at each deep push he made into her. Sounds that were having less and less time between them as her hips ground against him, bold and determined.
"Oh, my god." She sobbed against his mouth as her back arched into him, causing her hardened nipples to scrape across his chest, and let loose more sounds that led him to gasp out his own release and loll his head lazily into the crook of her neck.
It took several inhales and exhales for them to steady their breathing and unwind from each other. He pulled himself out of her slowly, letting her body slide against him as he let her down.
When she'd got her footing he put both hands on either side of the wall, towering over her as he continued to catch his breath, and she looked up at him only with her eyes, her head level with his chest.
After several beats he furrowed his brows and said, "Lucky I sent my elf away, really. I'd have to report you to O. E. W. for traumatizing her with the way you carry on."
She gave him a contemptuous look as she brought her hand up to the side of her face and snapped her fingers, scorgifying them both, while simultaneously commanding all of their clothes back on and fastened. The sound of her snap echoed in the room, and he could sense the magic pulsing off from her.
She was so innately talented and gifted, he thought. It ran through her veins like fire.
The corner of his mouth quirked but he otherwise didn't react outwardly. "That's a nice trick," he said.
"I have loads of them," she said, dodging under his arm and walking away.
He didn't follow, he already knew she was gone.
When he checked his back pocket, it was empty. It could have meant one of two things: he'd made her come harder than she ever had before, or they would definitely be doing this again.
Or perhaps, he hoped, both.
